


Broken Bones

by CaptainShade



Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel True Forms (Supernatural), Blood, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Broken Bones, Dehydration, Gen, Gore, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Its implied, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainShade/pseuds/CaptainShade
Summary: Whumptober Day 12--Broken BonesSam has a rough landing in the cage.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949092
Kudos: 9
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Broken Bones

They were falling farther into the darkness, the ice-cold connection between Sam and Lucifer stretching until it snapped. The archangels were hurtled away into parts unknown but Sam was far more focused on his own descent. 

It felt like he was falling forever, darkness as far as his eyes could see, the encroaching cold growing. The silence overwhelmed him. Proof of nothingness, proof of what he did. Was this what the Cage was? Spending eternity falling into freezing isolation?

Time stretching thin into nothingness, he felt like he was suspended in air. 

And then it came. 

He went deaf for a moment as the echoed sound of snapping bones filled his ears, the pain not catching up until a second later. 

He screamed, and didn't stop screaming. 

Eventually, Sam's screams died down as his vocal cords and throat swelled and bled, and he nearly choked. The tears had dried up long ago, dehydration settling in as barely-perceptible pain. 

Somehow, harsh groans still made it through his inflamed throat as he flopped his head from side to side, trying to see the damage. There was vomit right next to his face, and he could just barely feel something wet and swiftly chilling under him, sticking his clothes to his broken body. Whether it was piss or blood or both he had no idea. 

Blurrily he could see red everywhere, and bits of white sticking out of his body and scattered around him. Everything was in screaming agony, from his skull to his sternum to his hips to his legs. Past the ringing in his ears there was a terrible hoarse keening noise, and the taste and smell of blood became more prominent. 

He couldn't move, could barely breathe, and he waited for the archangels to come. 

Time stretched again, and still there was no sign he fell here with anyone else. 

Every breath he took in lifted his chest, stark-white ribs pushing through flesh as though they belonged on the outside. It was almost hypnotizing. 

The pain ebbed just a little eventually, and he chanced moving just a little. Maybe if he could find a hiding spot he could just stay there for eternity. Lucifer and Michael wouldn't find him, he'd be safe, if in excruciating pain for a while as his bones knit back together, if they even did that here. 

His neck seemed to be the only thing that wasn't broken as he tensed those muscles, ready to pull his blood-matted hair and skull off the cement and look around. 

Sam couldn't see much, only grey concrete that seemed to go on forever and the darkness, lit up by something he couldn't see. No hiding spots, nowhere to run--or crawl--to. 

Apparently his body had a little more moisture to give up, because he could feel tears running down the sides of his face. 

Maybe there was something behind him he could use, but he'd have to move to see. And moving more than his throbbing head and neck might literally kill him with pain, if that was possible. Though he supposed, if it were possible to die, he probably would have already. 

His whole body felt shattered, every twitch lighting up his nerves so thoroughly that black spots appeared in his blurry line of sight. His throat was torn and bleeding, leaving him unable to scream, which may be a good thing in this case--he couldn't attract attention if nobody could hear him. 

He could see bright white lightning in the distance, hear thunder, clashing metal and screeching, roaring animals. 

Even with his logic circuits turned off by the head injury, it was pure instinct that had him freezing, holding his breath. He had to move before that came close. 

Sam twitched the fingers on his right hand, the deep soreness proving that not even they were spared. But at least he could feel them. Toes were next, and they too responded painfully.

Everything was getting louder and brighter, and he was running out of time. 

He tried to push himself up, panic making him move without thinking, and the pain consumed him again, and he couldn't even scream. More vomit joined the mess on the floor, and his vision greyed for a moment. His head flopped to the side again, trying to figure out why that hurt so much. Everything looked wrong, red and white and skin all mixed together. He tried to lift his arm and look closer, but he couldn't even tense the muscles in his shoulder without his vision going spotty again. 

Something happened, but he couldn't remember what. Was he on a hunt maybe? The creature catching up with him? He could smell sulfur, maybe it was demons. Was Dean okay? 

"Dean?" he tried to call out, but his throat burned and sent him into hacking coughs to rid the blood from sticking there. He could vaguely see bone-white rising and falling with every heave. Were those his? What the fuck  _ happened _ ?

The thundering grew closer again, the light near enough and big enough for Sam to have no escape from the blinding brightness. 

And he remembered. 

Okay, arms were out of the question. Could he push himself with his legs? What if there was something behind him? He had to see what was there. 

God, he was gonna regret this. 

Mustering all his rapidly depleting strength, he tensed his abs and flipped over onto his ribs. 

A hoarse, reedy groan escaped his compressed chest. Blood filled his mouth again--he probably shifted some broken ribs into his lungs, which complicated the situation greatly. There was no chance of him just sitting in a corner while that fixed itself. Probably. 

But at least he could see a corner now, a defendable spot to stay until he died, again. 

Gathering his strength and will again, he shifted his leg, gauging the pain there. Better than his arms, but he still probably couldn't move them. 

The ground started trembling, just a little at first, then more and more and faster. Sam strained to look behind him, and he felt his heart pick up until it was almost fluttering, his vision going spotty again. 

Terrifying, indescribable, and coming right for him. 

Claws raked down his jeans, tearing into skin, dragging him backwards, and somehow, he still had the strength to scream. 


End file.
